


father, you believed

by atramento



Series: another cog in the machine [4]
Category: Final Fantasy Tactics
Genre: Abrupt Ending, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Canon, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28913031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atramento/pseuds/atramento
Summary: He returns to Goug after all is said and done.----tripledrabbles challenge 095: prompt - back
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: another cog in the machine [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118321
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6
Collections: Triple Drabbles: 300-word stories





	father, you believed

It was time to return home. The demon had been vanquished, Ramza rode off with Alma-- and now Mustadio had his own to return to.

The lights were out when he came to their abode in Goug. “Dad, I’m home!” It may not have been wise to announce himself; he was a heretic now after all wasn’t he? Mustadio wasn’t sure that anyone in Goug could really pin him if they wanted to though.

“Dad?” Mustadio set the torn cloak he had been hiding himself under aside to glance about the quiet place. Several of Besrudio’s works lie scattered on the table, the stool he sat at slightly ajar but still upright. 

Still feeling something stuck in his throat, Mustadio crept into the room where they both had their beds. He felt a chill, seeing Besrudio’s bed slightly unkempt as per usual but his cane lying beside said bed almost harmlessly. 

His dad would never have just walked away without that cane. 

Feeling the chills still, Mustadio pried open the door entirely and stepped inside. Something had to be wrong, something else had to be where it wasn’t supposed to be. 

But there was no splatter of blood, no damages or claw marks to the walls-- No other sign that Besrudio Bunansa had finally run afoul of some greater force. “DAD!” Mustadio shouted, his gun drawn. “DAD?!” As though screaming would bring his old man limping out of a closet or from behind a few boxes of their materials. 

In the grand scheme of things, Mustadio figured he had far less to lose than the others. Who would be craven enough to go after a man’s father, disabled from years of hard labor in the mines? 

Surely, he was mistaken. Surely, Besrudio would not be returning. And neither would Mustadio.


End file.
